


Up From the Abyss

by cloudyjenn



Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-05-31 04:10:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6455203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudyjenn/pseuds/cloudyjenn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Hawke travels to the Conclave to tell his story, he emerges as the sole survivor.  Now he's got a weird glow in his palm, a whole new set of problems and a destiny he never expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I love Hawke and I love Inquisition, so my brain felt a strong need to combine the two. So Hawkequisitor! This story will follow along with DAI events, but not exactly since Hawke is his own character with a unique history. So don't worry about reading the exact lines of dialogue from DAI. I will definitely be changing it up!
> 
> I tagged Adoribull, but it'll be some time before they come into the fic. But it will eventually be exploring their relationship as much as Hawke and Fenris'. At this time, I don't know if there will be other pairings, but I will tag them if they come up. 
> 
> Oh and Dog is named after my beloved boxer who is now barking and running freely up in doggie heaven.

Garrett Hawke hadn't expected to wake up.

His memory flashed an image of a woman lit up in green. His hand reaching out to her. The chittering of pincers and long spindly legs. Panic clawing at his mind. Not gonna make it. Gonna be eaten alive and no one will know what happened to him.

Never gonna see Fenris again.

Then she abruptly had him and Hawke didn’t remember anything else.

He’d assumed that would be it. But instead of waking up at the Maker’s side with his mother smiling down at him….or being poked by demons as the case may be...he woke up with a stiff neck and his hands tied at his sides.

Wonderful.

Hawke lifted his head, releasing a soft groan as pain shot down his spine. How long had he been sitting like this? His thoughts felt scattered, hard to grasp. It took him nearly 30 seconds to look for his staff.

He wasn’t entirely surprised when he didn’t see it. Only an idiotic captor would tie him up and then leave his staff nearby. But then a mage didn’t actually need a staff to be dangerous. Good thing Hawke happened to be quite good at palming fireballs.

When he turned his hand over to press against the ropes, Hawke jerked with surprise.

“Maker be damned,” he blurted.

His hand was _glowing_.

“I’m almost certain my hand didn’t always do that,” he said to the empty room.

Hawke carefully lifted his hand up for a closer look. The glow spilled out from what looked like a tear in his palm. But a tear made of the odd green light. Hawke couldn’t see any of his flesh showing and though he felt an odd pressure in his hand, there wasn’t any pain.

“What the…”

A clattering noise drew Hawke’s attention to the front of his cell. The door slammed open and a severe woman with a harsh scar on one cheek stormed through it. She carried an impressive sword at her side and generally looked like she meant business.

“Champion,” she said, her Navarran accent thick. It niggled something in Hawke’s memory.

“Have we met?” He asked.

The woman sneered. “What do you know about this?” She asked instead of answering, reaching down and jerking his glowing hand up.

“It’s my hand,” he said. Hawke fell back onto familiar sarcasm as he always did when confused and possibly endangered. “If you mean the glowing, that’s new to me.”

The woman’s sneer deepened and Hawke had to fight shrinking back. Maker, she was intimidating. She reminded Hawke of a very disappointed school teacher he’d had ages ago in Lothering. He hoped this woman didn’t force him to write the same sentence 100 times.

“Is this funny to you? Everyone at the Conclave is _dead_ ,” she snarled. “Every one. Except for you.”

Hawke’s stomach turned to ice. There had been dozens of mages and templars. Leaders. Maker, the Divine herself. All dead.

He abruptly flashed back to a conversation had weeks ago.

_“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m coming with you.”_

_“I don’t want you to come. It’s going to be dangerous-”_

_“Less for me! I’m not a mage walking into a den of Templars! This is-”_

_“Fenris, stop! I can’t...I can’t lose you…”_

Hawke swallowed and shook himself. He’d left Fenris the following morning. Well, that night really. Slipped out of Fenris’ warm strong arms and left him only a note. Fenris was probably livid, but at least he was _alive_.

“I didn’t know,” Hawke murmured.

The woman considered him, her anger draining slightly. Another sound drew both of their gazes and Hawke made a soft noise of surprise.

“Nightingale,” he said.

The red-haired woman nodded to him. “I’m glad you are awake now, Ser Hawke. Please, call me Leliana. It is the name I use most frequently now.”

“He didn’t know about the deaths,” the woman Hawke didn’t know said. It sounded as though she believed him. Or perhaps that was wishful thinking.

“What is going on?” Hawke demanded, using his ‘Champion’ voice. That persona still didn’t quite feel like the real Hawke, but he used it when he needed to get things done.

Luckily it seemed to work. The woman straightened up and said, “It will be easier to show you.” She came forward and began untying his hands. “My name is Cassandra Penderghast by the way.”

“Oh _that’s_ where I know you! You’re the Seeker that kidnapped Varric!” Hawke said. He was momentarily distracted by this revelation. Varric had called Cassandra, “attractive but hard as nails.” Not a bad description. Cassandra was certainly a beauty, but obviously much more than just looks. Hawke already believed she could lop his head off if he made any move she didn’t like.

After she’d untied him, Cassandra guided him to the door and that’s when Hawke realized they were really epically fucked this time.

The sky was ripped open and the Fade was flowing into their world.

“Holy shit,” he muttered.

“Yes,” Cassandra agreed.

********************

The first thing Cassandra did after untying his hands was return his staff to him. Hawke appreciated the display of trust and downright loved her for it when demons began falling out of the Makerforsaken sky.

“What. The. Hell.” Hawke grunted each one as he slammed the bladed end of his staff into attacking shades. He'd never been so confused or so annoyed in his life. Just when he thought things couldn't get worse, the sky ripped apart. Even Varric couldn't come up with something this ridiculous.

“Where are we going?” he asked as Cassandra wiped blood off her sword and began hurrying along the path again.

“There are others waiting for us,” she explained, a touch breathlessly. “We need to regroup and then make our way to the main rift. I'm positive you're our only hope in closing it.”

Hawke opened his shining palm. “I don't know how to control this,” he protested, but not because the idea of the Fade glowing in his palm worried him. Much. But rather because Hawke had no idea if he could help.

“There's someone waiting for us that might know,” she said. Hawke found it somewhat needlessly cryptic, but another round of shades cut off his chance to question her.

“We must hurry!” Cassandra called to him over the sound of what he assumed was her sword gutting a rage demon. Hawke longed for Fenris’ presence at his side. After years of fighting, they worked better as a unit. Without him, Hawke felt like he had a constant blind spot.

“Coming!” Hawke shouted back as he shot a round of ice balls into a demon. The hissing sound made him smile despite the situation.

Still, no time to celebrate. Hawke dashed past several corpses, stopping only long enough to snatch a few rings from the mess. Demons always had such interesting goodies. They ran up the side of a steep slope and near the top, Hawke realized the sky had developed a greenish cast.

“Is that…?”

The zip of electricity in the air and the sudden explosion of green magic was his answer. Hawke paused at the end of the clearing, eyes wide with shock.

Then he heard an unexpected voice.

“Flip that jaw closed and get to work, Hawke!”

His gaze snapped from the rift to the dwarf and an almost hysterical laugh bubbled up from his throat.

“Varric?”

“In the flesh! Although not for long if you don't get a move on,” he called, his precious Bianca loosing bolt after bolt into the horde.

Hawke started to move, but then the choice was taken from him. A surprisingly strong Elf with smooth head and a decisive manner grabbed his glowing hand and dragged him bodily towards the rift. Hawke didn't resist having his hand forced up to it. When the green from his hand touched the green from the rift, Hawke knew what to do. He pushed out, gathering his own brand of healing magic to aid the process.

It felt exactly like healing a wound. Stitching up flesh and sewing up the sky. Hawke figured he'd be disturbed by the comparison later, but for now he was just glad it worked.

“Finally.” Varric slid Bianca back into place. “I was beginning to think those demons would never stop popping out of that thing.”

Hawke rubbed his wrist. “I'm pleased to serve,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

“I'm a special guest of the Seeker’s,” he explained as he fiddled with his cuff. Hawke heard Cassandra make an annoyed huffing sound over his shoulder.

“You kidnapped him again, didn't you?” Hawke asked, glancing back at her.

“I did not kidnap him,” she growled. Hawke had to hide a smile. Her prickly nature made him miss Fenris so much. “I wanted him to tell the Divine what he knew of you, but then you came to the Conclave anyway and then...you know what happened.”

Yeah, Hawke didn't need to be reminded of the giant hole in the sky. Or the numerous deaths it caused.

Hawke turned back to Varric. “Did you write to Fenris?”

Cassandra made a soft odd sound Hawke couldn't quite identify. But it didn't sound angry or hurried. More...excited?

Varric grinned. “The Seeker is a fan of the book.”

“It's easy to be a fan when it's not your best friend writing explicit sex scenes of you and your lover,” Hawke deadpanned. “Seriously, Varric, I know you must-”

“I did one better. Cassius showed up about six hours after they dragged you back to the camp,” Varric explained. Hawke's heart leapt into his throat. His mabari was getting on in years, but he was still as loyal and clever as always. Hawke had left him to protect Fenris, but if Fenris had heard of the explosion, he wouldn't be surprised if he sent Cassius out to search for Hawke.

“Is he okay?”

“Oh yeah. Worried about you, but good. I sent him to Fenris with a message,” Varric said.

Hawke nodded, relieved. He'd wanted to keep Fenris out of this mess, but Hawke was officially in too deep. He needed Fenris’ support more than anything else he could think of.

“And who are you supposed to be?” Hawke asked the bald Elf.

“I had wondered if you would notice me,” he said genially.

Hawke shrugged. “Sorry, I had other Elves to worry about.”

“Ah, no offense is taken. I am called Solas. I am relieved to see the mark did not consume you,” he said. His tone was perfectly polite, but he gave Hawke a chilly feeling nonetheless. Maybe it was from years of dealing with people with hidden motives. Whatever the reason, Hawke resolved to keep an eye on Solas.

“Well. Me too,” Hawke said.

“He means to say he kept it from consuming you,” Varric added.

“Oh. Well, then thanks for that,” Hawke said, giving a nod to Solas, who returned the gesture easily enough.

“We need to move on,” Cassandra said, yet again reminding Hawke of Fenris. But then, many things did. The mark of one in love, he figured. “The breach cannot wait for pleasantries.”

“I agree,” Varric said heartily. “And Bianca is ready for more demons.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to come along,” Cassandra protested, but she didn’t get very far into her spiel.

“He’s coming or I’m not,” Hawke said, though it was something of an empty threat. He would obviously do anything to close that breach, but he wanted his old friend alongside him. It helped ease the confusion and distress to have someone so familiar close at hand.

“I knew there was a good reason we became friends,” Varric said, winking at Cassandra. She made a disgusted noise, but didn’t complain further.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure it was so worth it,” Hawke muttered. After everything that happened in Kirkwall, he was surprised he had any friends left at all.

“Let’s just get to this damn Breach.”

*******

Hawke hadn’t really missed making hard decisions. The hardest decision he had to make on the road with Fenris was whether he wanted to shave his beard to make himself less recognizable.

Which he totally didn’t do. His scar and glowing Elf lover tended to give Hawke away anyway.

But it seemed as if hard decisions followed Hawke no matter how far he ran. Cassandra deferred to him in deciding which way to travel to the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Hawke chose the path most likely to save lives and despite her obvious disagreement with his plan, Cassandra let him choose.

It was like being chosen as Champion all over again. Hawke had no idea why these people paid attention to his choices or opinions and the pressure should have been so immense. But like before, those worries didn’t occur to him until after he’d already made his decision and moved forward.

Maybe that was the reason. Hawke made choices when they needed to be made and learned to live with the consequences.

In this case, his choice did end up working out. They found the trapped guards and Hawke sealed another rift along the way. He didn’t need Solas’ help this time. If he focused on healing magic, it really wasn’t too hard, aside from taking more effort than he’d usually expend on a healing spell. Varric gave him a worried glance when Hawke fell back from the now sealed rift and reached up to wipe sweat off his forehead.

“I’m okay,” he said before Varric could ask. “Let’s just keep going.”

“This way!” Cassandra called out.

It seemed to take ages to fight their way through all the demons bursting into their path as they struggled down the mountain toward the Temple. Hawke kept trying to remember anything about the Conclave. He’d just _been_ here. So many had died. But he could not bring up a single memory. It was as though someone had cut out whole pieces of his mind. The idea that perhaps someone had done just that did nothing to comfort Hawke.

When they finally did emerge into the Temple’s decimated courtyard, Hawke could do nothing but stare. The rift glowing in the sky was bigger than the others, but more shocking was the way it curled up into a stream of debris and green magic that pierced up through the heavens. Up close, the breach was terrifying.

“We must hurry,” Solas said. “This is the first rift. I believe sealing it must be essential in healing the breach.”

Hawke opened his mouth to question how he could even reach the thing when a deep sonorous voice began to speak.

“ **Now is the hour of our victory. Bring forth the sacrifice**.”

“Well.” Hawke glanced at Varric. “This is officially the worst thing that’s ever happened to us.”

“It’s got my vote,” Varric agreed.

The voice kept droning on as they ran through the Temple trying to find a way down to the rift. When a woman’s voice he didn’t recognize began speaking and Cassandra gasped in shock, Hawke was only somewhat relieved to know they were hearing some kind of memory.

“That’s the Divine’s voice!”

Which would have been really interesting and noteworthy information to comment on if Hawke hadn’t also just realized he was seeing fucking _red lyrium_.

“No, really, the very worst thing,” he said despairingly. “Varric, is that…?”

“Red lyrium,” Varric agreed in a grim tone. “No one touch that. You don’t want to know what happens if you do.”

Hawke finally spotted a low spot in the wall he could jump from without breaking both legs. Thankfully there were already soldiers waiting for them, probably from Nightingale, Hawke thought. The rift didn’t open as the others had done. Which actually worried Hawke more than anything.

“What is-”

“Someone help me!”

The Divine’s voice interrupted Hawke and he looked up at the rift. Then he heard a voice that made his lips part in surprise.

“What the hell are you doing?”

It was him. Hawke could not remember any of it, but he heard his own voice demanding to know what was going on. He wanted to ask if the others heard it, but then his vision blurred and shifted and he began seeing the scene play out. A woman held aloft by magic, her arms stretched painfully wide. An evil shadow with burning eyes. Then he saw himself dashing into the scene, anger flaring in his honey-brown eyes.

“What the hell are you doing?” he heard again.

“Run while you can!” she implored him and Hawke felt his heart squeeze in his chest. “Warn them!”

“We have an intruder,” the shadow droned. “Kill him.”

Hawke’s vision cleared as his hand burst with renewed energy, reacting to the closeness of the rift. Cassandra strode forward, her eyes hard, but not so hard they hid the grief she obviously felt from seeing her Divine in such a position.

“What happened then? Is this a true vision?”

“I don’t know,” Hawke insisted. “I don’t remember any of it!”

“Look, why don’t we deal with that pretty little thing,” Varric said, nodding up at the rift. “And then we can fight later.”

“I think it is currently sealed,” Solas said as he examined it. “But it needs to be reopened so you can seal it properly.”

“Open it? Seriously? Because I’m pretty sure that’s just going to be an engraved invitation to every demon in the Fade,” Hawke said. But of course he wasn’t lucky enough that he could just walk away and pretend none of this had happened. He allowed himself a small moment to reminisce about his slow safe life in Lothering with his family, whole and loving.

Then he sighed and nodded as Solas explained why they had to open the damn thing and let in all the demons.

“Alright, yeah, yeah. Just stand back.” Hawke lifted his hand and concentrated until a burst of magic flowed from his palm to the rift. Almost immediately it exploded with power and out popped the biggest demon Hawke had ever seen.

“Fuck! What the fuck,” he growled, but no one heard him. They were all instantly dragged into battle because Big Fucking Demon had brought thirty of his closest friends and they’d be fighting them forever if Hawke didn’t battle forward to the rift. He grabbed the staff from its holder and threw himself into the fray.

At first it seemed to go well. Cassandra and Solas focused on the big demon, Varric stood back to pick off smaller demons along, the soldiers all helped where they could and Hawke kept pulsing healing magic into the rift. But it didn’t take long for Big Fucking Demon to realize that the rift was getting smaller and smaller and letting less of his buddies in. And from there, it didn’t take him too much longer to realize who was responsible for it.

“Um, a little help here?” Hawke squeaked as the demon turned on him and began tromping forward. He saw Cassandra’s sword cutting against the demon’s leg and saw Solas’ magic sizzle off him in sparks. But it still clomped forward and Hawke’s magic, while cutting and cruel, wasn’t doing enough. Not when he needed to expend so much energy on closing the rift.

Hawke felt a hard wall against his back and he cursed again. Unfortunately, Hawke couldn’t really die today. He was the only one with this stupid rift hand. “Why don’t you just die already,” he grunted as he shot spell after spell at the demon. “I have things to do!”

And then suddenly the demon jerked to a halt. Hawke blinked for a moment and felt his heart leap as a glowing white hand burst through the demon’s throat. Another hand appeared through his chest and the demon made a hideous gulping noise. Hawke heard a dog barking and glanced over long enough to see Cassius gleefully tearing into the stomach of a shade.

The demon teetered for a moment and then came crashing down at Hawke’s feet.

Hawke’s lover stood triumphant on the demon’s corpse.

“Whatever you're going to do, do it now,” Fenris growled.

Hawke scrambled away from the wall and over to the rift, reaching up and releasing one last burst of healing energy. The rift sang and pulsed, but Hawke was stronger than its song. It closed up with a burst of green sparks and then the world fell calm once more.

For a moment.

Hawke turned back to Fenris and right into his fist. Pain blossomed across his face, though Hawke knew Fenris could have hit him much harder. Fenris could have broken his neck with one blow, so maybe he wasn’t as mad as Hawke feared. Cassandra released a protesting sound, but Hawke saw Varric tug her back and shake his head.

“Just let them get through this part, Seeker,” he said softly.

“Fenris-”

“You _dare_ ,” Fenris hissed, practically vibrating with rage. “You left. And then I heard. I thought. I didn’t know.” Apparently he was so angry, he couldn’t even complete his sentences. “For days, I thought you were dead,” he finally managed to say.

Hawke touched his own cheek with a hint of healing magic. Fenris would feel guilty later if Hawke left a bruise there. “I know,” Hawke said, lifting up a placating hand. “Fenris, I know. But if I hadn’t left you, you would have died too.”

“That is not the point,” Fenris said, mulish but sounding less angry. His hair looked wild from travel, his eyes bright with worry and anger. Maker be damned, he was beautiful. Hawke knew his expression had gone a bit sappy because Fenris scowled. “You cannot leave me whenever you think there might be danger. That is not how we work.”

“I know,” Hawke said, but he couldn’t say he was sorry when he wasn’t. If Fenris had died at the Conclave, Hawke didn’t know what he would have done. Or if he could have carried on enough to help seal up these rifts. “I don’t want to leave you again.” He held up his hand to show off the glowing palm. “Look what happened.”

Fenris finally approached Hawke to take his hand. Until he did, Hawke hadn’t realized he was afraid Fenris would be too scared to touch him.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know. But I know I need you for this,” Hawke said. He cautiously reached up to touch Fenris’ cheek. The brief touch ignited a fire that seemed to melt Fenris’ anger instantly. He fell into Hawke’s arms without warning and suddenly none of this mess seemed so bad.

“Don’t ever do that to me again,” Fenris said fiercely. “I’m serious, Garrett. I can’t take it again.”

“I won’t,” Hawke promised, kissing Fenris’ temple. “I promise. Maker, Fenris. I missed you so much. I love you.”

“I love you too, even if you do make me crazy,” Fenris said. He pulled back to give Hawke a proper kiss, albeit a short one. Fenris still wasn’t much for public displays of affection and they both seemed to realize at the same time that Cassandra, Varric, Solas and a whole company of soldiers were watching them.

“So...what’s happened to you since we last spoke?” Fenris asked, eyeing the group over Hawke’s shoulder.

“It’s…” Hawke glanced back at Solas’ polite curiosity, Cassandra’s wide-eyed shock and Varric’s knowing smirk. He sighed.

“It’s a long story.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to say before that my Hawke is a mix of blue and purple. Very rarely will he be Red. My Hawke is a calm soul for the most part.
> 
> This chapter contains a brief allusion to sex. The story will have proper sex scenes, just not yet and probably not constantly.

Cullen.”

“Hawke.”

There was a long pause where both men considered each other.

“Did you change your hair?” Hawke finally asked.

The ambassador Cassandra had introduced as Josephine Montilyet chuckled softly. Hawke grinned. He might prefer lithe broody elves, but no question Josephine was a beautiful woman and making a beautiful woman laugh was always a good thing.

“Hawke,” Cullen said tiredly, reaching up to rub at his temple. “I do hope you'll try and take this matter seriously.”

“I'll promise to take it more seriously if you promised to take it less seriously,” Hawke countered. “You’re entirely too grim.”

Cullen only sighed. Hawke had almost missed the long-suffering Templar. Well, ex-Templar. They'd never been close friends, but Hawke knew he owed Cullen for looking the other way numerous times during his time as an apostate in Kirkwall to say nothing of how he let Hawke and his friends flee the city after the rebellion. Unless he'd changed in recent years, Cullen harbored some suspect opinions about mages, but then so did Fenris and that didn't stop Hawke from sleeping with the man every night.

Not that he'd sleep with Cullen. Despite the better hairstyle, Cullen wasn't really Hawke's type.

“The sky had torn open to the Fade, Hawke,” Cullen said with a frown. “I'm not sure there's a way to take that less seriously.”

“And yet Ser Hawke makes a good point,” Josephine cut in smoothly. “Those who have joined us were undoubtedly boosted by his triumphant display at Haven.”

She meant when Hawke plowed through the crowd of onlookers and gave out multiple handshakes, hugs and even let a few people cry on his shoulder. Hawke had always known how to charm people and in this case, it didn't take much effort. He'd been pleased to close the rift, pleased to have his lover back and pleased that everyone was so relieved.

“Yet there is still much to do,” Cullen pointed out. “There are reports of rifts all over the countryside. The mages and templars are still embattled and we don't know what caused the breach in the first place.”

Hawke reached down to scratch at Cassius’ ears. Fenris liked the same treatment, but not in public. Besides, he was standing way on the other side of the counsel room, his arms crossed and green eyes capturing everything. Hawke watched him until Fenris turned to him and then he winked. Fenris scowled and looked away.

Things were back to normal then.

“Alright, so why don't you tell me what you know and we'll go from there,” Hawke said and to his surprise, no one even questioned the order.

Apparently he was in charge again.

Cassandra talked for a long time about the Inquisition she wanted to rebuild. Hawke vaguely remembered reading about the Inquisition in his village school. Come to think of it, the same teacher who'd forced him to write lines taught them about it. Which was probably why Hawke didn't know as much as he could.

“So, instead of being in bed with the Chantry…” Hawke began.

“We are working independent of them,” Cassandra confirmed, her expression grim. “We cannot bring peace by throwing our society back into the same patterns that brought us here. There must be a new solution.”

“But first…” Hawke waved his rift hand and Cassandra nodded.

“The Breach and those responsible are our first concern, but we need more support if we have any hope of closing it permanently,” Cassandra explained. Her gaze stayed on Hawke’s still glowing hand. That glow might have gotten annoying at night if Hawke wasn’t used to sleeping with a source of light. Fenris didn’t always have perfect control of those markings when he slept, but Hawke found the pulsing white glow comforting. Maybe the green would feel the same way in time.

“That kind of support does not happen overnight,” Josephine said thoughtfully. “We will need to send out agents of our new Inquisition to spread word and garner goodwill among the people. We need to prove we are powerful before we can actually gain power.”

Hawke blinked. “And how does that work?”

“It’s a matter of getting results in a few key issues. Then you will gain support from one group and then another until they begin to fall in line. It helps to have someone with charm and confidence leading the way,” she said, lifting her brows at him.

Hawke looked at her for a moment and then turned to Cullen.

“She doesn’t mean you, does she.”

Cullen didn’t looked impressed.

“Look, I appreciate that I’m entangled in this whether I want to be or not,” Hawke said, waving his rift hand once more. “But I don’t exactly have the best reputation in the world. People associate me with what happened in Kirkwall despite the fact that I had no part in destroying the Chantry.”

Hawke remembered all too well the fight he’d had with Anders the night his friend asked him to sneak them into the Chantry. Anders had grown ever more erratic and Hawke had been so worried about him. When he wouldn’t say why he wanted to go there, Hawke had just felt something was wrong.

Maker, was there ever something wrong.

“I agree with him,” Cullen said, glancing to Cassandra. “We need Templar help if we’re going to-”

“He's not going anywhere near the Templars,” Fenris suddenly spoke up, his eyes like green fire. “I won’t allow it.”

Cullen looked from Fenris to Hawke. “And he speaks for you?”

“Yes, he holds that chain pretty tightly,” Hawke said fondly. “I don’t mind Templars individually,” he explained, gesturing to Cullen as an example. “But I don’t think it’s a good idea for the Inquisition to send me as its agent to them as a group.”

“There’s always the mages,” Leliana pointed out. She’d been so quiet that Hawke almost forgot about her. A disquieting and useful technique for a spymaster. “They hold a great deal of power and Hawke’s own power will obviously work well with magic.”

Cullen made a dissatisfied sound and shook his head. “They’re not a stable source of power though. The mages are in uproar and they’re extremely dangerous right now.”

“I agree,” Fenris said in a tense tone. Years ago, Hawke would have inwardly sighed, thinking there was another argument approaching. But he knew now exactly why Fenris felt that way and appreciated his point of view. “They are more vulnerable to demon possession than ever before. I do not like the idea of Garrett being bolstered by such a volatile power source.”

There was another pause and then Josephine said in a delighted tone, “Garrett? Is that your first name? I do not think I have ever heard it before!”

“Yes, that’s me,” Hawke said, relieved that Josephine had broken a building tension. Perhaps she had done so on purpose. The woman certainly knew how to read a room. “Terribly Fereldan, isn’t it?”

“But then so are you,” she said and from her, it sounded like a compliment. “Even after years in Kirkwall.”

“It’s good to know the slime of Kirkwall hasn’t fully tainted me,” Hawke said. He didn’t mention it, but he secretly loved when Fenris called him by his first name. Everyone always just called him ‘Hawke’. Hearing his first name from Fenris somehow felt very intimate.

“We still haven’t come to an agreement,” Cassandra pointed out.

“I don’t think we need to have one right now.” Hawke stood up and pulled on his Champion persona. “You said we need to make friends, right? So let’s just focus on that and see what we can find out along the way.”

“Then there’s someone who can help you,” Leliana said. “A Chantry mother named Giselle. She’s even now among the people helping refugees from both sides of the conflict. She will have good advice for you. I’ll give you a map to her location.”

Hawke nodded gratefully. “Alright. We’ll go out first thing tomorrow morning? Cassandra, will you come?”

“Of course,” she said.

“Good. I’ll want Varric and Fenris too. It’ll be like old times,” he said, winking at Fenris again. Cassandra even reminded him of Aveline in ways, though she was far more the spitfire than his solid reliable Aveline. If she wasn’t busy sitting on Carver to keep the fool safe, he’d want Aveline here helping them.

“Oh,” Fenris said with a slight eye roll. “Lovely.”

Hawke grinned. Much of what they went through was shit, but some was pretty good. Everything with their relationship was pretty good. Even during the horrible three years when Hawke knew what it was like to fuck Fenris, but wasn’t allowed to do it anymore.

Come to think of it… “Meeting adjourned,” Hawke said suddenly, marching over to Fenris and dragging him back to the room they’d been given when they returned to Haven. He’d expected Fenris to tease him about his eagerness, but Hawke had underestimated Fenris’ own passion.

They hadn’t fucked in over a month and for them, that was a _very_ long time.

Hawke didn’t exactly mean to make Fenris cry out so loudly that most of Haven must have heard him. But he did rather enjoy it. Probably it was good for morale, right? Josephine said the people were bolstered by his triumphant return to Haven. They’d probably feel the same way if they knew Hawke could make his lover scream himself hoarse with just his tongue.

Really they were fucking for the Inquisition’s future.

When they finally managed to calm down from noisy pleasure, Hawke was left with an armful of clingy sleepy Elf. Hawke had never chanced openly comparing Fenris to a cat, but he almost did purr when Hawke stroked his fingers gently up and down his back.

“So are you okay?” Hawke asked.

“Hmmm, I’m quite well, thank you,” Fenris said in a dreamy tone.

Hawke snorted. “I don’t mean are you well-fucked...I can see that. I mean...with all this. My hand, this Inqusition...you didn’t ask for this-”

“Of course I did,” Fenris objected. He was idly combing Hawke’s generous chest hair. After all these years, he was still fascinated by how hairy humans could be. “Wherever you are, that is where I have committed to be.”

“Even if this is the most dangerous thing we’ve ever done?” Hawke asked carefully.

Fenris finally lifted his head and considered Hawke with a mild expression on his handsome face. Hawke brushed his knuckles across Fenris’ jaw. Honestly, he could not believe how beautiful Fenris was. It didn’t seem possible that he really existed looking this way.

“I would follow you into the Black City itself,” he said.

Hawke’s heart skipped a beat.

“Maker...I hope we don’t end up anywhere quite so nasty.” Hawke leaned up into another kiss. “I love you.”

“And I love you.”

“Good.” Hawke settled down into his pillows and began stroking Fenris’ back again. “Fenris?”

“Mmmm?” Fenris sounded very relaxed and tired.

“Are you sleepy?”

“Mmmmm….perhaps. Why?”

“....I want to fuck again.”

There was a pause and then Fenris moved to straddle Hawke’s lap.

“No, Garrett, I’m not sleepy.”

Hawke grinned.

“Excellent.”  



	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized as I was writing this chapter that I won't be able to effectively tell Dorian and Bull's story if I keep the POV the same all the time. So starting now, the chapters will vary in POV. Apologies for the first two being the same.
> 
> Also I keep meaning to mention that Hawke's red mark is a scar in my fic. I thought it was meant to be a scar because I never saw that trailer with the blood smear. When I heard that, I thought, well that's unhygienic to wear all the time, so it's a scar here. I don't know how he came by it, but I suspect Carver was involved. 
> 
> Updates will be regular if not every single week FYI! Please enjoy :D

Fenris left Hawke in a snoring pile the following morning to seek out breakfast. The first light of morning had only just crept under the door of their new room, so he did not expect to see so many people up and working. It seemed each and every one of them turned to watch as he passed. For a moment, Fenris feared they'd heard his and Hawke’s lovemaking the previous night and found them inappropriate.

But a closer look revealed a tinge of awe Fenris found very familiar. He’d always gotten the same look from the residents of Kirkwall when they realized he was the lover of _the_ Champion.

Now he was the lover of their savior.

Fenris scowled at them. He did not mind the awe, but he very much minded Hawke’s part in this mess. Magic already stirred in Hawke’s blood. Now a piece of the Fade itself had lodged in Hawke’s hand. Fenris hated the Fade. Every time he thought on it, he remembered how easily he turned against Hawke the one time he’d gone there. It did not matter that Hawke forgave him; Fenris still loathed the memory.

As he stalked through the camp toward the smell of fire and cooking, Fenris wondered with a touch of fear if Hawke could possibly come out of this intact. Would the Fade wound grow? Could Hawke contain it with the power of his own magic? Or would it eventually consume him?

Fenris’ expression was so fearsome by the time he reached the woman stirring the pot of porridge that she gave a squeak of fright and practically flung two bowls at him.

He sighed. Apologizing always seemed to frighten them even more, so he took the bowls quietly and returned to their room.

Fenris set Hawke’s bowl on the table beside his head and sat to eat. He knew the food would wake Hawke. Despite spending a few years with very little money, Hawke still ate like a mabari. And speaking of mabari...Fenris stood and pulled some dried meat from his pack for Cassius.

“Mmmhhmm...I had the most wonderful dream,” Hawke said sleepily, his honey brown eyes opening. Fenris loved Hawke’s eyes. Until they met, he hadn't known eyes could be such a beautiful color.

“And what did you dream?” Fenris asked.

“A gorgeous Elf brought me breakfast in bed,” Hawke answered as he tugged himself upright and took the bowl.

“I never imagined I’d be someone’s dream come true,” Fenris said blandly.

“You undersell yourself, my friend! Who wouldn’t want a brooding glowing sort of...dangerously sexy Elf lover?” Hawke asked before he began shoveling in his porridge. Fenris cocked an eyebrow at him. Here was the Champion of Kirkwall and the Savior of Haven. Naked and dripping in porridge.

“I imagine many people would not desire that sort of lover,” Fenris said. “I would not.”

“No, you’re more the type to want the idiot who keeps stumbling into danger on accident.” Hawke laid down his spoon and turned over his palm. The glow cast green across his face, turning his skin sallow. “What have I gotten myself into this time?”

Fenris put his bowl aside and stood to walk to Hawke’s side. He took his unmarked hand and lifted it for a kiss. “Wherever this leads us, we’ll get through it,” he said, showing none of his doubts. Hawke did not need to see them right now at the start of their new mission.

The tension in Hawke’s frame eased a touch. “I don’t know how this keeps happening to me…”

“You run toward danger so that others do not have to,” Fenris said. To this day, it still surprised Fenris how much his voice changed when they spoke privately in this manner. He sounded so gentle to his own ears, so full of love. “You would not be Garrett Hawke if you did not.”

Hawke pulled their joined hands back to press Fenris’ to his cheek. “That is such a sweet way of saying I’m a complete dumbass,” he said in a similarly loving tone.

Fenris chuckled and leaned down for a kiss.

He had a feeling they wouldn’t get time for many in the coming days.

*********

After Kirkwall, the Hinterlands seemed like a veritable paradise to Fenris. Far too cold, but so green and fresh. So many plants, the water sparkling and clear and the sky painted a brilliant blue.

“We’ve been living in a trash heap,” Fenris commented to Hawke after he returned from his talk with Mother Giselle.

“Speak for yourself,” Hawke said. “I didn’t live in a house full of corpses for six years. Besides, we’re going back there. Someday. Somehow.”

If Hawke wanted to make that a goal to keep his spirits high, Fenris wouldn’t complain. As long as Hawke was with him, he could live among filth happily enough.

“What did the Mother say?”

They began walking back toward the food vendor where Varric and Cassandra were haggling over prices. Well, Varric was haggling. Cassandra was switching between watching for danger and casting anxious looks in their direction. Fenris had a feeling she would stick closer to Hawke if he were not there. Not as though she feared him, but rather that she...he didn’t know the word. Respected, perhaps. She respected or revered their relationship in a way that confused Fenris, but made him feel that she didn’t like to intrude on them much.

He hoped she didn’t hold them as some kind of romantic standard. Fenris had been a fool during much of their love affair.

“She thinks it’s possible I can get some Chantry support,” Hawke explained.

“You? Really?”

“I’m as surprised as you are. She said she knows some names of Chantry members who either believe Anders acted alone or can be convinced. At any rate, it’s worth investigating,” Hawke said as they arrived near Varric and Cassandra.

“What’s worth investigating?” Varric asked as he handed a meat pie to Hawke.

“Chantry support.” Hawke took a huge bite and paused long enough to chew and swallow. “If we’re going to save the entire world this time, it’ll help if most of it isn’t against the Inquisition.”

“I’m not sure about this,” Cassandra said worriedly. “First you were in Kirkwall during the explosion and then you’re the only survivor of another massacre? I know you aren’t to blame,” she hurried to add. “But it looks….”

“Terrible,” Fenris supplied. “I don’t think you should go near anyone from the Chantry or the Templars if you can help it.”

“I appreciate the advice,” Hawke said and his tone was serious enough that Fenris knew he really meant it. “But like it or not, I’ve got this now.” He held up his glowing hand. The hint of Fade there taunted Fenris. He scowled. “I’m literally the only person who can stop those breaches. I could send delegates, but they need to hear our intentions straight from me. They need to know this...Herald of Andraste means to help.”

Fenris’ scowl deepened. Another grandiose title. Someday they would grow too heavy and bury Hawke.

“I...see your point,” Cassandra admitted. “Still, this won’t be easy.”

Hawke grinned. “No worries, Cassandra. I don’t do anything easy.”

“He really means that,” Varric piped up. “Just ask the Elf it took him six years to woo.”

A scowl wasn’t enough. Fenris threw his hands into the air and stalked off. As he stormed in the direction of their camp, he heard Varric say, “Don’t worry, Seeker. He does that a lot. I think it might be some kind of foreplay for them.”

“It does keep things interesting,” Hawke replied.

Fenris couldn’t remember why he missed these people.

 


End file.
